Majoring in Murder

Chapter 7

On Friday, my last two classes were unexpectedly canceled. On a whim, I decided to drive over to visit the address listed on the paper Carlo sent me.

I followed the highway around the city's perimeter and exited in Doraville. Coral Drive made a loop and reconnected with Powers Road, which I was on.

I made a left at the second intersection for Coral Drive and drove slowly down the residential street, making mental notes of the side streets. I noticed that the houses in the neighborhood were small, and appeared to be older, while the trees surrounding them were tall and lush, mostly pines. Cut granite formed the curb along the road and a handful of cars dotted the side of the street. I finally came to the house I wanted and slowed to a crawl. When I saw there were no cars in the driveway, I stopped.

The house was brick and was painted over with an ugly cream color. It sat toward the rear of a long narrow lot that sloped downward. A narrow creek that divided many of the yards in half ran parallel to the street. Across the creek, several pine trees shaded much of the area except for patches of sunlight that shone between the leaves, leaving dappled spots on the driveway. Brick steps led up to the front door where two sizable double windows flanked it. The drawn curtains gave the impression that no one was home. One of the smaller windows to the left of the front door bore a Mexican flag that doubled as a curtain.

The house across the street, to my left, sat atop a hill. There was a FOR SALE sign in the yard. I made a mental note of it. If I were really going to do this, I needed to familiarize myself with the terrain, detect obstacles, plan an escape route, and find a position where I could take the shot. I put my objections to the whole project aside for a moment and considered my options, treating the exercise as a thought experiment.

Initially, I considered sitting in a tree since there were so many, but after contemplating a moment, I dismissed it as a bad idea. I picked up the printed map and found Coral Circle, a street I passed earlier. From what I could judge by the lines representing the roads, it seemed that Coral Circle might extend to the back of Hector's house. I decided to check it out and see if I was right.

I was. The cul-de-sac was directly behind Hector's house, but the trees and shrubbery were so thick that it would've been impossible to make an accurate shot from the street. Besides, there were several houses in such close proximity that someone would most likely see me. I turned around in the circle and went back to Coral Drive, this time passing Hector's house in favor of seeing what was down the road.

About a hundred yards past Hector's driveway, there was a three-way-stop. The intersecting road on the left was Palmer Valley and there were plenty of woods lining each side of the road from what I could see.

Since there were no cars behind me, I stayed at the stop sign and penciled in a small star on the map where Hector's house stood. I drew a circle across from the star where the house was for sale. A small line, identified as Huber Street, extended from Acres Mill toward Coral Drive but stopped short of the circle I had drawn. I wanted to get to this street and check it out.

It turned out to be my lucky day. Huber was a narrow road that dead-ended right behind the house for sale. There were no cars in the driveway of the house at the end of this road, so I parked my car by the curb and got out. I climbed over the fence that divided the two yards and walked to the side of the For-Sale house, where I stopped in the shade of a tree on top of the hill. Across the road, I could see Hector's house clearly. I decided that was the spot where I would make my shot.

From there, I would have a clear view of the target and I could escape by going to my car on Huber Street and then take Acres Mill back to the highway.

The plan seemed reasonable, but I erred on the side of caution and decided it would be best to come back at night to do a dry run, making sure that concealment wouldn't be a problem and that my exit route would be quick and unimpeded. In addition to that, I wanted to visit when people were home so I could gauge how lively the street traffic was. I doubted anything would compromise the location I chose, but it was in my best interest to be safe.

I remember sitting in my car before leaving, wondering just what I was doing in that part of town. I wasn't there to see new places or visit with the people who lived there. Instead, I was preparing to kill one of them. That thought snapped me back to reality. I felt weird, as though I had lost touch with who I really was. It wasn't the real me. Now that I was on the cusp of carrying out the task, it was more important than ever to get myself out of the situation.

* * *

I drove back to school and went up to my room. It was a relief to learn Daniel had already gone home for the weekend. If he had been there when I got back, he would probably have given me the first, second, and third degree about why I was hanging around instead of going home as I usually did.

I looked at the digital clock on his desk. It was 7 PM, which meant I had about an hour of daylight remaining. I changed into a pair of my darkest blue jeans and found a black t-shirt. I stopped at an outdoor store where I purchased some binoculars and went back to Doraville.

I drove half way down Huber Street and parked between two streetlights so my car remained in the shadows. Although the sun was down when I turned off the car's ignition, there was still that thin red horizon to the west. I stayed in the car and listened to the radio until the sun had fully set. I took the binoculars with me when I got out and walked down the road. When I reached the fence, I paused and looked around. Seeing no one, I climbed it as quietly as I could. When I reached the house I got down on my hands and knees and crawled around the side until I reached the front corner, where I lay on my stomach, propped on my elbows.

At Hector's house, an outside floodlight shone on the driveway, illuminating the bottom portion of the stairs and the single-car garage door. I raised the binoculars and slowly swept them across the front of the house. My vantage point couldn't have been better without sitting on his front porch. From where I lay, I could see directly into the front windows. Fortunately, the curtains were open; I adjusted the focus until I could clearly see three men sitting around a table. There were beer cans, playing cards, and poker chips scattered between them and one of the men was smoking a cigarette. I realized it was a joint when he passed it to the guy on his left and it continued around the circle.

Hector sat on the far right, his back to an exterior side door. He looked the same as his grainy photo except his hair was a little longer. If I had had the rifle with me, I could have pulled the trigger and been done with whole thing. I had an excellent view of him as he waited to play another hand of poker.

I got to my feet, retraced my route through the backyard, and scaled the chain-link fence. I made an effort to walk casually to my car, got in, cranked it, and backed slowly down the road. When I merged into the flow of traffic on I-285, I checked my watch to see how long my escape had taken. Only seven minutes had elapsed since I lay on the ground imagining squeezing the trigger on my imaginary rifle. Being a firm believer in Murphy's Law, I doubted things would go as smoothly if I were really there to do what I was rehearsing for.

As I lay on the ground, what I was practicing didn't dominate my mind. Instead, I was concentrating more on the tactile feel of the leaves and dirt. Listening to the ambient sounds and thinking about the kind of people who lived in the neighborhood. I didn't want to consider what it would be like to lie there with the intention of actually killing someone. I must admit though, that imagining sneaking into the area undetected was exciting in a way that I never felt. I just had to come up with a plan to avoid doing what Carlo wanted. Time was ticking on Carlo's clock and I doubted he was a patient man. So far, no plans to avoid doing the deed presented themselves. I decided to come back prepared to do the real thing. Hopefully, that would jolt my brain into coming up with a more viable plan.